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Thursday, June 07, 2018

EHEU FUGACES!


What Horace says is,
Eheu fugaces
Anni labuntur, Postume, Postume!
Years glide away, and are lost to me, lost to me!
Now, when the folks in the dance sport their merry toes,
Taglionis and Ellslers, Duvernays and Ceritos,
Sighing I murmur, ‘O mihi præteritos!’



I presume that others have experienced this:  What we have relied on our bodies to accomplish automatically, changes to thinking consciously about what we want to do. Later this transforms, invidiously to the completely impossible.



With age, following a stroke I eased my cycling by buying an electric-assisted model. It was a powerful "gents" machine which I enjoyed for a couple of years.

 How does one dismount from a "cross-barred" bicycle? Something I have never needed to consider since I first learnt to ride about 70 years ago. One stopped, both feet on the ground, astride the bike, and simply tossed the right leg backwards over the saddle. About a year ago I found that I could no longer do this - the hip joints just would not allow it. However I managed to continue with the bike by thinking about where and when I wanted to stop. With the bike in motion, left foot at the bottom of the pedal revolution I could still fling the right leg backwards and come to an elegant halt, both feet on the ground to the left of the bike.

Which is fine until one comes to an unplanned halt as I did one day in Ashford High Street, thinking to go into a newsagents. I stopped, still astride the bike and could not get off! I had to restart, then perform the manoeuvre  described in the last sentence of the last paragraph before I could divest myself of the thing.

Weeks later I was gliding happily down a woodland track through Orlestone Forest - a short cut to a village cafe at Hamstreet. Some soft mud had become rutted, my front wheel slid into the groove and I stopped suddenly to preserve balance. Picture me, sat astride the bike in verdant surroundings, birds giggling merrily, unable to move forward, back or sideways. I had to just drop the bike under me and step over it. This could not go on if I was to continue cycling as I decidedly want to.

About 18 months ago I published a post about e-bikes the very last sentence of which came to mind. Reluctantly I sold the lovely gents' machine and have invested in, what was once referred to as a "ladies' bicycle" or "dropped frame".



A transformation (no, I do not wear a skirt), the bike is nearly as responsive as its predecessor , I no longer have to think about stopping and woodland tracks are so much easier and relaxing. I probably should have done it some time ago.

10 comments:

Tom said...

So much we take for granted when our bodies do what they're designed to do. I have to confess that I never could perform the manoeuvre of lifting my leg over the saddle whilst still on the move. My current difficulty on my collapsible push bike is changing gear by twisting the hand grip. Osteo-arthritis in the thumbs is a real pest. As a member of my acquired family said recently, "I never realised how much we use our thumbs."

Avus said...

Indeed, Tom.

To quote Joni Mitchell, "You never know what you've got 'til it's gone"

Have you considered getting that twist grip gear change replaced with a lever type? It might be easier.

Tom said...

It might well be easier. However, the bike seems to be a complete package; even mirrors are not available. That is something of a nuisance as I am deaf, and even with hearing aids noises from behind are difficult to catch. I do not find French stores adaptable in this regard, but I will bear your suggestion in mind.

Tom said...

Sorry, I meant unadaptable.

Roderick Robinson said...

This constant talk of "ladies" (There's a better, less twee word, Avus) and you don't wear a skirt! Wish you'd have told me earlier, I'm having to adjust to Macho-Man Avus and it's hard. But then I seem to remember you never wash up, do you?

As you were posting this piece I was undergoing a somewhat related experience. One of my retired neighbours has bought himself a 500 cc Honda to go with his £45,000 Audi. I asked him whether he had any problems with the tucked-up rider position demanded for many modern bikes; he said no and offered to let me bestride the Honda, parked in his driveway. I was about to do so when caution overtook me. Old age has severely restricted my ability to swing a leg, as when getting over low-level fences defining some car parks. I had visions of the shiny beast slipping out of my grasp and regretfully declined. It's one thing to accept I'll never ride a motorbike again, even more discouraging to realise I may never even sit on one.

Showing off your Latin I see. I think you should confess to the world that this is no big deal. During your youth Latin was probably common parlance among Tenterden's dens of iniquity.

And even among the lesser scruffs from the North. On the inside of my bedside locker in the RAF I too resorted to Horace:

Odi profanum vulgus et arceo.

Even then I had ideas above my station. I may have mentioned this to you years ago and I apologise. As my mother might have pointed out: I'm old and I'm doiting. A good word that.

Avus said...

RR:
I suppose I could call it a "woman's bike", but I remember the immortal Tom Baker as the old sea captain in "Black Adder". ("Ahh, you have a woman's bike, my lord!"). They were always lady's bikes in my youth and it's stuck.

Sorry about your inability (or caution) to mount the Honda. I have just bought a "Classic" baby 250 Honda and may do a post on it later.

As to the Latin - I was never taught it at school, I was in the "German" stream and even found the grammar of that inflected language difficult. Don't think that I could have managed yet another declension in Latin. I have picked up bits in later life, principly during my 20 active years (I am still their secretary, 10 years after ceasing displays) as a member of Britain's leading (and original) Roman Army re-enactment group (The Ermine Street Guard) where all orders are given in the language.(and all the men wear skirts, actually tunics, in kit)

I have always enjoyed the Rev. Richard Barham's "Ingoldsby Legends" and his clever little "eheu fugaces" verse particularly appeals, so it seemed a good opportunity to share it.

I bet your barrack room mates hated you during national service!

Avus said...

It should be "principally", of course. I really must employ a sub-editor.

Vita said...

Doiting, present participle of doit. OK.

We got the Minx because HH doesn't think I can swing a leg over the Honda 750, even though I can, but maybe I have to think about it a little more than I used to, like ask him to move it to level ground or something.

Avus said...

Vita:

Well you could always try the 750 with flat tyres - that should bring the height down!

Vita said...

Hmmm. No thank you. I like my tires aired up.

I'm not much good at finding a reasonable definition for doiting. Spell check wants to change the spelling, anyway.